Remember
by ImagineDragon Bastille
Summary: Just a little Bucky one-shot I thought of. Steve has finally found Bucky, and brought him to the tower. Whilst at the tower, Bucky sees an old face from the past as he struggles to regain his memories. This is not Winter Soldier or Civil War compliant.


**This does not really go with the recent MCU timelines. In the Winter Soldier Natasha never knew Bucky was involved, and Civil war has not taken place yet.**

Natasha rose her aching arms and placed her dinner in the microwave. The last mission had gone slightly awry. Slightly. She closed her eyes to the constant hum of the machine.

"Natasha," Steve's voice cut through her moment of peace. Natasha looked up.

Steve looked at Natasha. He wasn't quite sure how she would react, considering the man he had just brought into the tower had tried to kill her, multiple times. He tried to gauge her reaction as she brought her head up. Natasha's lips parted in surprise, but no sound came out. She was obviously taken aback, but for what reason he couldn't tell. A look of surprise, guardedness, and least likely of all, raw emotion was frozen on Natasha's features. He thought he saw her lips move, but no sound came out and the movement was so brief he couldn't tell what she said. Since the silence was evidently not going to be broken by her, he decided to break it.

"I, um," He said, not sure what to say. "I found him." He gestured to towards Bucky, feeling quite stupid because it was quite obvious whom he had found. Natasha finally shifted her gaze to him.

After a long pause, she responded, referring to the battered shape the pair was in. "What happened?" Although the question was directed at him, Natasha's gaze was frozen on Bucky's.

"Hydra found us so we had to bolt. Is Tony still up? His arm got damaged pretty bad." Steve said.

"I- uh, yeah. I think he's still in the lab."

"I'll fill you in with the rest later." Steve said before they descended in the elevator.

Natasha stood frozen in place after they left, completely oblivious to the beeping of the microwave. It _couldn't_ be. It was impossible. Unless, he had somehow escaped…. Natasha abandoned her pizza, completely in shock and lost in thought. She sat down on her bed, lost in the past to the first time she had met James.

 _Her opponent was taller, and stronger by the looks of it; although she couldn't have been more than two years older than her. Natasha dodged underneath a sudden punch. The momentum sent the girl stumbling for a moment. Natasha brought up her knee and hit the side of the girl's ribs. She let out a small grunt, but otherwise showed no other pain. She grabbed Natasha's arm and twisted it. Biting her lip against the pain, Natasha complied with the girl by doing what was natural; she went on her tip toes to relieve the pressure. As she did this, the girl swept her feet out from under her. The girl went down with Natasha, and when she fell, the other girl was right on top of her. She struggled to twist out of her grasp, but the girl's hold was too tight. Natasha thrashed her body, trying to create a weak spot. Her elbow connected with a rib and the girl instinctively curled up to protect it, while unconsciously loosening her grip on Natasha._

" _Stop" The new supervisor commanded. Ever since the Soviet Union had fallen, and the new government had taken over, things had changed in the red room. All of the supervisors, for example, had been replaced. In addition, each new day the girls had to speak a different language to exemplify their proficiency in several languages._

 _Obediently the whole room, filled with several pairs of girls sparring, stopped fighting and stood up. As she did so, the girl gave Natasha's arm a vicious scratch, as if declare her victory over Natasha. Natasha straightened her back and faced the supervisor, blood beginning to drip down her arm for where the girl's nails had bitten into her skin._

" _This is the asset; he will be overseeing your training for the time being". Natasha looked him over. He was a fairly tall man. His brown hair just reached his ears. In place of his left arm, was a steel prosthetic, complete with a soviet star on the shoulder. But of all the things about the asset, even more than his metal arm, was his empty gaze. The supervisor dismissed the girls and they began to file past. Natasha glared at her opponent, the scratch not forgotten._

" _Jerk." She muttered. A movement caught her peripheral and then Natasha realized she had said it in front of her new trainer. It looked like he was about to say something, but the word silenced in his throat._

A figure appeared in her open door, gently knocking the wood, not wanting to surprise her. Natasha turned her head.

"I hope I didn't startle you." Bucky apologized.

"It takes a lot to startle me." Natasha said ambiguously. Her eyes still filled with old memories, Natasha motioned for him to sit next to her. She wasn't quite sure how much he remembered of her; the last time they met, there wasn't a spark of recognition as he shot her. But maybe Steve had dug up some memories they had tried to cover up.

"What'd Tony say?" She asked, gesturing to his arm.

"He said it could be patched up." Natasha nodded and glanced away.

"Natalia." Natasha faced him. "You're her aren't you? I thought I recognized you, but… they made and unmade and made my memories so many times it's hard to tell." Bucky clenched his jaw.

"Its nice to see you James," Natasha let out a small relieved breath. "How much do you remember?"

"I'm getting bits and pieces back. Usually I'll see or hear something that will trigger memories, only sometimes… they aren't all good."

"I know." Natasha said. "I know."

"Like with you, I remember your red hair, and blood on your arm, only I don't know why."

Natasha gave a small laugh, "A girl scratched me and I called her a jerk, you remember that?" Bucky stared off into space, as is he could find his way through a string of real memories and fake memories, trying to find that single, real one of the girl Natalia he met in the red room.

"Its like…. There's a thousand memories swirling around me, but the fake ones seem real and the real ones are just outside my line of sight; if I strain hard enough, I can glimpse them."

"It'll come with time." Natasha promised.

Bucky ran his hands over his face, "When you started to break the surface of the Winter Soldier… they noticed and then they wiped me again and put me back into cryo."

"When they woke you up to train us, they didn't believe a twelve year old girl could break the walls they had put up around you. But after a while, you started remembering, getting glimpses of who you had been before the Winter Soldier you said." Natasha said.

" _I had her on the ropes." Natasha muttered as the Winter Soldier commanded their fight to be over._

" _What did you say?" He pulled her aside. She looked at him, afraid to tell the truth, but knowing she couldn't lie._

" _I said I had her on the ropes." She said quietly. She looked down, expecting a blow for speaking out of turn about her opponent like that. Instead though, the man stiffened and turned his head slightly. Noticing his hesitance, Natasha looked up at him. His eyes were clouded with confusion._

" _Dismissed." He told her and she obeyed, following the other girls out._

"How did it happen?" Bucky asked her. "How did you get past him?"

"The Winter Soldier?" Natasha said. "I don't know… I think deep down, you were always there, fighting, and I just helped you."

Bucky nodded, "The thing is… the most horrible things always come back the fastest."

"Trouble sleeping?" Natasha asked. Bucky nodded. "Well, that makes two of us."

" _I hate the cold." James muttered. It was the dead of winter, and they were in Russia. They had given him and Natasha a mission, just a small reconnaissance._

" _That makes two of us." She replied, peering through her scope._

Bucky stared at her, the memory rising to the surface, only to be buffeted back down again.

"What?"

"The things I did to you…" Bucky trailed off. "I made you into a killer, I beat you. And you were the one who first made me _remember_."

"I'm not going to blame you for something you had no control over."

"Nat?" Clint's voice called through her door. "Have you seen Bucky? Tony said he has some new designs for his arm." Getting no response, Clint pushed open the door. Inside were two sleeping Russian assassins, who looked very comfortable and would most likely be very ticked off if they woke up. Pissed off assassins were not good. Clint knew from experience. After savoring the cuteness for a moment – Natasha was curled up on her side against Bucky and he was curled up against her, like they had each others' backs even in sleep – Clint closed the door.


End file.
